Somewhere In Time
by kaworu nagisa
Summary: "Harry peered at the vial once more. 1977? What was so important about 1977?" On his 18th birthday, Harry Potter receives a Pensieve. And before he knows it, he's in 1977 - the time of the Marauders.
1. The Parcel

**My...**_**third**_** attempt at a Marauder Era story?**

**First two were *epic* disasters.**

**But no worry. I think I've gotten better :)**

**Hopefully.**

**I'm writing this **_**just**_** after I watched **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 **_**on the 16****th**** of July, 2011. I am so proud. Third day of release. The theatre was crammed to the brim.**

**So here it is, and review!  
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_Somewhere In Time_

_By xoxoisabelle_

_Prologue – The Parcel_

On his eighteenth birthday, Harry James Potter received a Pensieve.

It arrived in the mail that was delivered to Grimmauld Place along with letters of congratulations, the usual haul. Everyday Harry was swamped with piles of cream parchment envelopes that owls would slip through the mail slot. He woke up daily and padded out of Sirius' room to see a mountain of envelopes on the front rug.

"MUDBLOODS AND FILTH –"

Harry didn't even bother muttering "Shut up" as he brushed by Mrs. Black, casting a non-verbal Silencing charm on Walburga Black, who sputtered indignantly – silently, of course – as he barely swished his wand, already groaning at the sight of the mail.

He may have been the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and Hero of the Wizarding World, but he was _still_ eighteen years old, just barely of age.

The letter on the top of the pile was decorated with a familiar handwriting – Hermione's. Smiling to himself, he stowed away his wand and tore open the letter on the spot, only pausing to brush a lock of black hair from his eyes.

_Harry – _

_Ron and I will be coming at around three to help with the party preparations, along with the rest of the Weasleys and Fleur. Don't ask "what party". We've been over this, we want to celebrate your birthday with you – your first birthday in which you can finally kick back and relax minus the prospect of potentially being killed by Voldemort. _

_And in case you've grown out of your dress robes, Ron and I have taken the liberty of getting you new ones._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry rubbed his scar almost unconsciously at the mere mention of Voldemort's name. Barely a year ago, he had defeated Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle, He Who Must Not Be Named. Now he was eighteen. And it was his birthday. And, of course, he had utterly and completely forgotten about the party. He groaned, rubbing the piece of paper exasperatedly between his index finger and thumb.

Now he saw that there was another piece of paper attached. Hoping very much that it contained good news, Harry raised it to his eyes. Another hand had scribbled this segment, one that was a lot messier and a lot more unorganized as compared to Hermione's – Ron's.

_Harry – _

_Hermione and us will be dropping by later, mate. I hope you remembered your own birthday? Ginny's going catatonic. Says she hardly knows what to wear. Anyway, we've invited Kingsley and McGonagall and Aberforth and Luna and Neville and pretty much everyone else. _

_Oh, and the dress robes were Hermione's idea. Wait till you see what she's picked out._

_Ron_

Harry had to smile at the part about Ginny, however at the portion regarding his dress robes he had to turn apprehensive, making a mental note to dig up his old, bottle green dress robes – provided he could still fit into them. He doubted that very much. Thinking of what Hermione might have picked out for him, he winced. Even though Hermione was his best friend, he couldn't say he trusted her taste in men's clothing.

_Especially_ when it came to dress robes.

He sighed, re-folded the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans blearily. Then he noticed the parcel.

It was just beneath the letter he had just read, wrapped in crisp brown paper and tied with white string. It looked fairly new, and on the top was inked – _To Harry Potter_ in great inky splotches. Harry's brow wrinkled, he was sure that they had invited everyone he had known to the party and hence there was no need for the present to be sent on earlier. The handwriting was just barely discernable.

"Maybe it's Luna?" he murmured, more to himself. A note was tucked under the string.

_Harry – _

_You never knew me much, but this is for you._

_We love you._

Harry just grew more curious. Who on earth could it possibly be? His rate of unwrapping the parcel grew frenzied, a few clouds of brown-paper bits later he was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a Pensieve.

It looked exactly like the one in Dumbledore's office, a silver bowl, the surface a rippling sheen of water. Hesitantly, Harry touched the water, it shimmered even more insistently when disturbed, like a mirage.

In his hand he clutched a tiny vial that had come in a separate velvet pouch, also inside the parcel. It was labeled '1977'. What could possibly be so important about 1977? What happened? And why did he _have_ to see it? Harry felt utterly conflicted, but he still unplugged the stopper and watched the swirling blue substance pour into the Pensieve. However, even as he poured, it remained at the surface, and did not sink. A little exasperated, Harry swirled it a little. It did not move.

"If you want me to see whatever's inside of you, shouldn't you at least _work_ first?" Harry demanded of no one in particular. His voice reverberated out into silence. Apart from Kreacher, no one lived in Number 12, Grimmauld Place anymore. And Kreacher was currently working on a beef and cheese pie for lunch, so he wouldn't disturb Harry.

Frustrated now, Harry pushed his chair away from the table and stood. "I don't know how you expect me to look into you if you don't work the way normal Pensieves do," He argued with the Pensieve. It did not respond, naturally, but the surface shimmered a little, looking inviting.

"This doesn't make sense," returned Harry. Once again, there was no response. He stared at the Pensieve for a long, long time. The milky blue substance swirled at the top, forming images. A boy and a girl. Hogwarts. Harry's eyes narrowed, and then he spotted his father's face.

"My father?" Harry said aloud. And there it was. James Potter's face stared unblinkingly up at him. If not for the image's hazel eyes, Harry might have mistaken the face for his reflection. He was in Hogwarts robes, and two badges glimmered on his chest – Head Boy? Quidditch Captain? He stared raptly at Harry, unmoving.

"This is getting stranger and stranger," Harry murmured to himself. He disturbed the surface a little, but the mist did not dissipate. It remained stubbornly at the surface, so if Harry tried to bend his head into the Pensieve, he would hit the mist instantly. But what difference did it make?

"I've got it," declared Harry a while later. As usual, there was no response from the Pensieve. "You're – you're not a Pensieve. You're an _image-shower._ Yes, that's why you're showing me my dad's face. _That's _not a memory. So I'm just supposed to look at the pretty pictures from 1977 that come up?"

The Pensieve did not speak, but the images swirled again. This time it showed a crystal ball, and a slip of paper floating inside. The paper twisted and turned, then faced Harry. It read – _Come in._

What? The Pensieve was now inviting him in? Harry felt even _more_ befuddled and confused now. It didn't make _any_ sense at all. He touched the surface again, and dared to probe a little deeper. It made no difference.

Sighing, Harry bent down and pressed his face into the Pensieve.

It was like plunging headfirst into a basin of cold water. Harry was used to the sensation, but there was something slightly different about it today. The blue mist swirled around him, twisting like a double helix and wrapping him in a cocoon. Harry struck out, something was definitely wrong. He couldn't breathe. He was suffocating. His limbs flailed out wildly around him, but it was coming in tighter and tighter –

And then it snapped. It recoiled, like a stretched rubber band. Harry broke the surface, and for a few minutes he just bobbed aimlessly there, floating, his eyes tightly shut and he was breathing heavily. He felt exhausted, like he had just run a marathon.

"Oh, god," He panted. "What just happened?"

Harry opened his eyes, and he glimpsed wide, vast green grounds, sloping crazily up and crazily down. In the distance, he spied a castle – Hogwarts?

Then his eyes widened. He was in 1977 – the year that his father and mother were Head Boy and Girl. And the Marauders – Sirius, Remus, and – Peter. Peter Pettigrew, the traitor. His fists clenched. He was going to march into that castle and yell for the world that Pettigrew was a traitor –

But Pettigrew had died for him. To save his life. And this was a memory, right? That meant he couldn't do anything. But there was still something strange, Harry mused. This was no ordinary memory, he decided, recalling the blue mist that had tried to strangulate him.

In the end he just made up his mind to walk into the castle and see what was going on. He struck out for shore, and clambered weakly, dripping onto the grass. Looking down at himself, Harry saw, that to his surprise, he was in Hogwarts robes. Reaching almost reflexively into his damp robes' pocket, he saw that his wand was thankfully with him.

He twirled his wand and made a few complicated movements – it was a spell Hermione had taught him after the war – and instantly he was warm and dry. He remembered Dumbledore casting a similar spell on him.

Harry stared at the castle in the distance. Somehow, he suddenly felt frightened of what he might find, if his father had truly been as bad as Snape's Worst Memory had portrayed him as. Harry contemplated it from all angles, then it struck him.

He was eighteen. In 1977, his father was _seventeen. _So _he_, Harry Potter, was the older one here. He was older than his _father._ It was certainly a strange sensation.

"But if I'm eighteen," He said aloud, "shouldn't I be able to deal with a seventeen-year-old?" It made him feel significantly better. Sighing in relief, Harry pocketed his wand and started for the castle.

He had barely taken two steps when a tentacle shot out of the lake, wrapped tightly around his torso, and yanked him back into the inky lake.

**Done. Review? And I know I'm meant to be on hiatus, I just couldn't resist writing this. Don't expect frequent updates, sorry.**

**Review!**

**Xoxoisabelle **


	2. Meeting Your SeventeenYearOld Parents

**Thanks to all reviewers.**

**Disclaimer: xoxoisabelle does not own anything you recognise here.**

**R&R!**

_Somewhere In Time_

_By xoxoisabelle_

_Chapter Two – Meeting Your Seventeen-Year-Old Parents_

Harry plunged back into the murky depths of the Black Lake, and he struggled to surface as air bubbles rose in a flurry of white around him. He searched his mind for the incantation for the Bubble-Head charm. Ahah! Yes, he knew what it was!

_The giant squid!_ He thought furiously as more tentacles shot of the darkness and grasped his ankles and wrists. He batted away more tentacles with his free right hand, managed to wriggle his wand into the same hand, and cast the Bubble-Head charm around him. There was a flash of yellow light, and then a bubble encased his head. Harry choked as oxygen flooded his lungs. Oh, it felt so good.

He struggled some more, and yelled, "_Relashio!" _There was a burst of red light, and then the tentacles retracted sharply from him. His freedom was only temporary as more tentacles replaced the ones he'd injured, grappling furiously with him. Harry fought and kicked.

"_Confringo!_" He shot more beams of light at the giant squid's body, which was still hidden somewhere in the black water. "_Stupefy!_"

"_Diffindo! Relashio!_" Harry yelled again, squirming desperately for the surface. The bubble wavered around him. _My only chance,_ Harry realised, _is to attack from below._

He folded his arms, popped the bubble, and dropped like a stone.

His ears screeched from the pressure, and he instantly waved his wand and cast another Bubble-Head charm on himself. Harry's bare feet touched the sand, weed-covered bottom of the lake. He allowed himself a few minutes of relief, and then glancing up, saw the giant figure of the giant squid, silhouetted against the blue light filtering from above.

_There it is,_ thought Harry. He was just about to strike out for it when smaller, streamlined shapes zipped across the water above him. At first it was just one, and then three more followed. The four shapes were gone so fast Harry barely had time to blink.

"Grindylows," He said aloud. His voice sounded strange, tinny and warbled. "It's okay, they can't injure me, it's just a memory," he said aloud to console himself. Inside, he was quaking. This was no ordinary memory. If so, why was the giant squid able to see him and attack him? The general rule that governed memories was that no-one could see, hear, or make contact with you. However, this was far more than a memory.

"It's real life," He realised. "I've traveled...in time-? Whoah!" He was cut off as a Grindylow swooped by him, knocking his wand, his only defense, from his grasp. Harry whirled around, kicking up sand, and saw it lying on the ground behind him. He lunged for it.

He made contact with the ground once more but his fingers missed altogether, another Grindylow nimbly plucked it off the ground as it skimmed the lake-bed, twirling it in between its clawed fingers as it bobbed above him. Harry lunged for his wand once more, but the Grindylow swept it away from him, and bared its fangs in his face, hissing. Harry recoiled sharply, but his oxygen supply was running out. There was no way for him to re-cast the Bubble-Head charm without his wand.

Was this how he was going to die?

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-

"I think it was a very, very bad idea to skive off History of Magic," said Peter frantically. He looked around, slightly peevish. "Professor Binns is going to tell McGonagall, and then _she_ will –"

"Look, Wormtail, relax." Said Sirius, completely at ease. He swing his leather satchel by the strap on his finger dangerously, causing Peter to duck several times. "Binns won't even know we're his students, and even then, what is Minnie going to do to us?" He scoffed.

James Potter ruffled up his hair even in its permanent messy state. "History of Magic is the _only_ thing I dare skive off, being Head Boy and all." He spoke seriously. "I doubt Evans will hardly fancy me if I get kicked out of the position."

"I doubt Evans will fancy you _anyway,_" Sirius returned as James reached halfway up to mess his hair up further, thought better of it, and then lowered his hands sheepishly. They were skipping History of Magic on a perfectly normal school day, walking leisurely down from the castle to the lakeside, where everyone would be by the next hour, which was free period for the Seventh Years.

"Come on, Padfoot. What makes you think that?" James yawned, stretching.

"Because you've gotten all boring this year," replied Sirius. "All that Head Boy jazz and all, y'know?"

"But I thought that the guy I'm being right now is the type of guy Evans – sorry, Lily - likes," complained James. "Didn't you always say that she liked Moony because he was all responsible and a prefect?"

"Look at it this way," said Sirius, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and gesticulating wildly. "Maybe Evans likes Moony because he's Moony. Face it, he's _her_ type of guy – and you're not!"

"So you're saying that Evans would go for Moony because she likes Moony himself, not because of the way he is." James paused. "This doesn't even make sense." He groaned a while later. "Why can't Evans see that I really like her? Why does she have to hate me so much?"

Peter winced. Lily Evans, Head Girl of the class of 1977, was the apple of James' eye and he, coincidentally, was the black sheep in _hers._ A while back, James had discovered that Lily had actually fancied Moony, or Remus Lupin, the last member of their foursome. That had been when they were in fifth year, and it was an extremely painful topic for James. Now, they were in their seventh, and James was trying really hard to get Lily to fancy him.

"Oh, you hopeless romantic," Sirius said in a mocking voice as he hopped down several flights of stone steps. At the foot of the staircase he pursed his lips and made a kissing-face at James. "Oh, Lily. Oh, I love you _soooooo_ much," He whined, in a high-pitched imitation of James' voice. James just rolled his eyes. A few years back, maybe, he would have punched Sirius in the arm jokingly and pushed him into the lake with the giant squid. Now, however, he was a lot more careful of where he trod and what he did.

_Am I getting boring?_ James wondered. _All for Evans. Is she really worth it?_

"_Sirius Orion Black!" _James shrilled, pouting his lips and sticking out his chest. "You are a big fat insulting toerag –" He said, in a perfect imitation of Lily's voice, deciding to have a little fun. Sirius and Peter burst out laughing, and James laughed along.

Then they heard a loud splash.

"What? Who _is_ that?" James demanded, breaking away from the conversation. "I think someone just fell into the lake!"

"Maybe it's dear cousin Bella," said Sirius hopefully. "I hope the giant squid decides to marry her so that she can be its bride and stay at the bottom of the lake forever and have squid babies with the giant –"

"Shush, Padfoot." James spoke irritably now. "Slytherin or not, we have to help her. Or him." He added.

"It must be a girl," said Sirius lazily. "Men don't require saving."

"I'm guessing you _hope_ it's a girl?" chipped in Peter. "Blimey, Sirius, are girls all you think about?"

"I think about other stuff," waved off Sirius, stretching his arms out behind his head. "Like – snogging, let's say."

"Er." said Peter, who by now was pretty used to Sirius' answers, which were more than often like this, about snogging or another inappropriate practice. "Alright then. James?" He turned around. There was no sign of James. He whirled to the front again. "James!"

While he and Sirius had been chatting, James had run down to the lakeside, streaking across the grass like a bullet. "James!" called out Peter, starting to run. Sirius rolled his eyes and followed after the two of his friends.

"Prongs, I doubt Evans will like you even if you try to play the knight in shining armour this time around! She's not here to see it!" Sirius called as he ran.

"This isn't about Evans, Pads!" yelled back James. "This is about doing the right thing!" He yanked his satchel over his head, pulled his wand from his pocket, and plunged right into the icy water.

Sirius stopped where he was. _Doing the right thing?_ He wondered. _Oh boy, Prongs is getting __really__ boring nowadays._ He started moving again, this time not running, but taking a leisurely stroll to the lakeside. James executed a perfect dive and disappeared beneath the surface with barely a ripple or two.

Peter paused by the lakeside, kneeling and trying to stare into the murky depths. "I can't see him!" He called worriedly to Sirius, who just rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, Wormtail." Sirius said, flopping onto the damp, dewy grass and kicking his legs up on James' abandoned satchel. "He'll make it through alive."

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-

Harry struck out feebly for the surface, to no avail. The Grindylows had him tied with ropes, which reminded him of the hostages during the Second Task in the Triwizard Tournament a few years back. _Maybe the Merpeople will come save me,_ He thought to himself hopefully, not wanting to speak aloud and wasting his oxygen supply. He ran the few lines of Mermish he knew through his mind. Most of them required him gurgling like a fish and pursing his lips. He shuddered at the mere thought of having to do that. Maybe it ended up sounding like an offence and the Merpeople attacked him as well? Oh, Merlin, no.

The Grindylows nudged him even further with its trident-like object. It pricked his skin and he bit his tongue at the pain. Blood and bile filled his mouth, and angrily, he swallowed. Why was this happening to him? What had he done _this _time?

Suddenly, a curse was racing at him through the darkness, but before he could even duck, it had sliced through his bonds and he was free. In amazement, Harry rubbed his wrists together, but then common sense set in and he dove for his wand, snagging it off the ground with a triumphant grin. Re-casting the Bubble-head Charm, he whirled around, expecting to see a Grindylow practically on him.

However, there was no Grindylow above him, for another wizard was keeping them at bay. He was obviously a very good swimmer, for he spun around at the speed of lighting, had excellent reflexes, and seemed to sense even the slightest change in the currents. A halo of black hair bobbed around his head, but he seemed to be wearing glasses. _With a Sticking Charm on them,_ thought Harry. There was no way otherwise how they would've stayed on his face.

Jets of orange, yellow, and white light whizzed at the Grindylows, and they seemed not to know what had hit them. The giant squid above seemed dazed, and kicked away hurriedly from the other wizard. The wizard shot one last Stunner at the Grindylows, and then dove down, hauled Harry up by the armpits, and dragged him towards the surface.

Harry broke the surface, spluttering, his wand clutched tightly in his fist. Without thinking, he kicked free of the other wizards' grasp and swum for shore. A figure was standing and hooting on the opposite shore, whereas another was lying on the grass. Who was it? Harry would just have to find out.

He clambered onto the grassy ledge, and doubled over, coughing up water he'd swallowed accidentally and panting. A hand clapped across his back. "Good one, Prongs – " The voice was cut off as Harry raised his head to stare into a set of very familiar eyes.

"_Peter Pettigrew?"_

"Prongs?" said another familiar voice, standing before him. His eyes widened as he set his eyes on Sirius Black. _No. This can't be happening._

"Yeah?" A voice called from behind him. Harry shot to his feet, and whirled around. His eyes widening, he realised, that to his utter dismay, the wizard that had just rescued him from the lake was none other than his own father, James Potter.

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-

"That will be all," said Professor Binns aimlessly. "Ender, if you have a question, you may ask me after everyone is gone." He drifted away, through the blackboard and to the teachers' table, where he hovered above the desk, a lost look in his eyes.

Lily Evans, hardly wincing at Binns' mispronunciation of her name, brushed her quill, parchment, and sealed ink well into her bag and stood as her classmates began filing out of the classroom. Alice Prewett, Amaryllis Macdonald, Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon, her four best friends in the entire world, watched her with wide eyes.

"What else could you _possibly_ want to know now?" hissed Alice.

Lily laughed it off. "Oh well, I was just reading up on myths, and I read about something called the Chamber of Secrets, here at Hogwarts. I was certain that Professor Binns would know something about it."

"Don't bother, Lily." Marlene called out. "Binns won't answer about it. I asked in Year Two, he refused to say anything. Convinced I was up to no good."

"Whereas Lily would _never_ abuse the information to any extent," pointed out Dorcas. "I hate to break it to you, McKinnon, but you hardly have a good rep with the teachers."

"Shut up," complained Marlene, while the other four laughed.

"Go on, Lily," said Amaryllis, or Mary. "We'll see you by the lake, it's free period now."

"Oh, I heard that Black and Potter are going to tickle the Giant Squid," said Alice gleefully. "Should be a laugh, huh?"

Lily frowned. "Alice, Potter is Head Boy, and – speaking of which," She said, narrowing her emerald green eyes suspiciously, "I haven't seen Black _or_ Potter all morning. They skived off History of Magic again, didn't they?"

"Knowing them, yeah," said Marlene.

"The Marauders are _so_ dead," said Dorcas, recognising the look in Lily's eyes. "If our Lilykins here can do anything about it," she chuckled, and the rest laughed along.

"Not Remus, he was here," said Mary. "But Pettigrew, Potter and Black are _going to get it,_" She mimicked Lily's voice to perfection. The others laughed again, this time with the exception of Lily, who looked positively furious.

Then, a familiar voice rang out through the corridor outside their classroom, "Coming through! Move it, move it!"

"Potter," spat Lily, and bolted for the classroom door, her friends hot on her heels. They were used to the routine. Run after Lily, watch her kick up a fuss about whatever James Potter was up to, back her up where necessary, yell at Sirius if he tried to chat Marlene up, yell at Potter for doing anything at all, and be nice to Remus regardless. _And_ completely ignore Peter. That was how it usually went. 

They emerged into the corridor to see James Potter, dripping wet, leading another dripping boy, who was hunched over, as if trying to hide from the crowd. Both were in sopping wet robes. "Get out of my way! He's in critical danger, about to die!" Sirius and Peter were following behind, looking utterly serious.

"He needs to see Dumbledore," said James Potter lazily, not even looking up into the face of the person who had firmly planted his or her feet in front of him, "So if you'll excuse me –"

He froze, for he found himself staring into Lily Evans' eyes. His tone grew surprised. "Evans. Fancy seeing you here – "

"Oh, knock it off, Potter." Said Lily Evans, rolling her eyes. "And I'd like you to know, while I _can_ tolerate you skipping History of Magic – " The Marauders and Lily's friends all snorted at this, for it was a general rule that practically _no-one_ went for History of Magic, " – I _cannot_, and absolutely _cannot _tolerate you pushing other students into the lake," She said with an air of defiance.

"I didn't push him in," said James defensively, "He was pulled in by the squid."

"Sure, like _that'll_ hold up before McGonagall," Lily rolled her eyes again. "Now, if you'll excuse us – " She snatched the other boy's arm – " – _we'll_ be heading off to Madam Pomfrey."

"No," said James, his voice taking on a hint of desperacy, " – you don't understand –"

"He's just another unfortunate target of your pranks," said Lily coldly, "I understand perfectly." Unfortunately, Lily was never very understanding when it came to James.

She spoke to the boy in a quieter tone. "Are you okay? Come on, we'll get you fixed up."

"That won't be necessary," whispered the other boy in a trembling tone. Lily frowned.

"Of course it's necessary! Why, did James Potter threaten you or something?"

"No," said the other boy, still not looking up.

"Why don't you look at me when you talk, and then _maybe_ I'll believe you," said Lily, growing impatient. The other boy hesitated, then looked up into Lily's green eyes.

She couldn't help it. The Head Girl took a step back instantaneously, when she usually wasn't scared of anything. The entire crowd gasped, but Lily was terrified. How was this possible? Unless her father had had another son her age with another woman, this was _not_ possible. Because the boy standing before her had her father's eyes, _her_ eyes.

The boy standing before her looked exactly like James Potter, except with Lily Evans' eyes.

**Thank you for all the reviews, do review more. I'm looking forward to 10 reviews, if possible. Please?**


	3. The Need To Be Sorted

**Wow, twenty reviews! *bright smile* but I asked for ten! Thanks so much, guys! :)**

**I also have about twenty people who put this story on alert and favourite~ thanks again :) the response has been simply **_**amazing,**_** maybe I'll be tempted to update more often! :D**

**Since I couldn't stand making you wait, here's the next chapter. Sorry, but it'll be a short one, I've not got much time.**

**Thanks to bandnerd2669, metoochocolate, The Phantom of the Tech Booth, Invader Kiwi, XX Alien Youth XX, lmb 111514, Eleos, LunaBeth203, liz, thegirlofcrazy, Minna26, Fan of fic, my **_**anonymous readers **_** and Bethanymarie for reviewing :)**

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling, you know that.**

**Review!  
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_Somewhere in Time_

_By xoxoisabelle_

_Chapter Three – The Need to be Sorted_

Lily Evans took a step back, her mouth hanging open. She quickly sobered. The boy had to be a relation of James Potter, that was all. Eyes like hers were – common. Eyes precisely like hers were – rare. She pushed the doubtful thoughts to the back of her mind and cast a disdainful look at James.

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't hurt your own kin," She said, but her voice came out warbled and unsure. She cleared her throat, and repeated in a louder voice, "Well, I suppose you wouldn't hurt your own relations," Lily said, in as powerful a voice as she could muster. "I'm counting on you to take him to Madam Pomfrey, then."

Wordlessly, James nodded, and then beckoned to Sirius and Peter. Hesitantly, Remus followed. The five of them hurried down the marble corridor and out of sight, dripping all over the floor. Whispers quickly ensued and dipping her head, Lily moved back to her friends.

"Who was that?" probed Alice excitedly.

"Now's not the time for gossip, Alice." Lily threw Alice a glare.

Alice threw her hands up in protest. "No, it's not that, I just wanted to know. Who is he?"

Lily gathered her wits and started down the corridor at a brisk pace for the lake. "Some relative of Potter. He looks just like him."

"A transfer student?" asked Dorcas, her brow furrowing. "He looks our age, and I've never seen him before. But every generation of Potters has come to Hogwarts, that doesn't make sense!"

"Shush, okay? I don't know any more than you do!" shot back Lily. She still had her doubts, remembering his eyes – _her_ eyes. "Ugh!" She raged, and left her friends standing there while she headed ahead. Her friends pulled up short.

"Wow, Lils is _really_ angry," mused Mary.

Marlene nodded. "There must be something very wrong about that boy."

"But what is it?" asked Alice doubtfully.

"I don't know, why don't we think about it?" Dorcas spoke. So the four of them put their heads together and thought.

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-

The Marauders said not one word to Harry on their way to Dumbledore's office, he guessed that they didn't trust him. Ever so often they would start whispering, but James would brush them off and stalk ahead, leading the way. Harry was just as confused as they were, but for different reasons – instead of puzzling over who he was, he was thinking – _who sent me the Pensieve, time-travel device...or whatever? Why did they want me to come to 1977? What could possibly have happened?_

Questions and confusion raced through his head at breakneck speed, coming to only one conclusion – Dumbledore would know. But would Dumbledore _really_ know? For once in his life, Harry truly doubted Dumbledore's ability to explain what had just happened – but it didn't matter.

As they drew near the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, James hesitated.

"Who are you, really?" He spoke to Harry. Harry, taken aback by the question, tried to come up with something sensible. If possible, he would not reveal his true identity. What, and then tell James, Remus, Peter and Sirius that they'd all died? It was nice seeing them alive again, by the way.

"M-My name is Harry." Harry stammered out, finding it extremely strange to be face to face with his seventeen-year-old father. "Harry...Granger," He finally said, casting his mind around for surnames and settling on Hermione's. After all, she wasn't from a Wizarding family and the Marauders were less likely to know a Granger.

"Granger, eh?" grunted James, and Harry knew that he was trying to figure out whether Granger was a wizarding surname. For his benefit, Harry threw in, "I'm a Muggle-born."

"But your startling similarity to James just _can't be ignored,_" said Sirius patiently. "Are you a distant relation?"

"He already said he's a Muggle-born, Padfoot, knock it off," replied Remus quietly. He looked carefully at Harry. "Alright, maybe you aren't related to James. But your eyes...I've seen them somewhere before...have you some relative in this school or something?"

"I don't know any other Granger," piped up Peter. "I don't think there are any Grangers in this school...apart from Granger here."

"He said his name's Harry," shot back James. Looking at Harry, he hesitated. "I like the name Harry."

"You would," yawned Sirius. "James is really into the boring, old-fashioned Muggle names, just so you know." He told Harry. "Especially because his is one. He doesn't appreciate sexy, exotic names like mine and Remus'."

Remus shot him a look. "Don't bring me into it."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "Fine. You're not much sexy, anyway." He stretched and tried to strike a pose. "I, on the other hand –"

"Are as sexy as a troll, or as Snape for that matter," James rolled his eyes. Sirius and Peter sniggered at the Snape comment, and Harry felt a twinge of irritation, even if these people _had_ died to save his life later on. Snape was actually the good guy, and he knew it. Harry briefly contemplated telling this to them, but doubted that they'd even believe that he was from the future, and they would definitely attack. He just chose to remain silent.

Turning back to the gargoyle, James said, "Fizzing Whizzbee." The gargoyle sprang aside to reveal the revolving steps, and the Marauders and Harry stepped onto the stone and started spinning upwards to Dumbledore's office.

Remus, on the other hand, kept peering at Harry strangely, but when Harry looked at him, his eyes flashed away. _He's figured it out,_ Harry realised, _but why isn't he telling the others?_

The doubtful light in Remus' brown eyes told him the rest. _He's not sure. He _wants_ to be sure before he'll tell them. And what better than a confirmation by Dumbledore?_

When they reached the familiar oak door, James knocked thrice with the huge brass knocker. Harry's eyes darted around its frame. _It looks exactly the same as it did in my time. Not much has changed since then._

"Come in," rang out the oh-so-familiar, musical voice.

The door swung open, and James was the first to step inside, followed by Sirius, Harry, Remus, and then Peter. James bowed his head upon sighting the silver-haired, bearded old man. "Professor Dumbledore."

"James," said Dumbledore, sounding quite surprised. "Sirius, too. And Remus and Peter, and – oh! Who is this?" He peered curiously through his silver-rimmed spectacles at Harry, who found himself shocked that Dumbledore did not know who he was. Then he quickly reminded himself that he was in 1977, not in 1998. There was more than a twenty-year lapse, Dumbledore would _definitely_ not know him.

"My name is Harry, sir. Harry Granger," He said, just as James opened his mouth to speak. He shut it, looking much like a goldfish.

Dumbledore looked from Harry to James and then back again. His blue eyes twinkled as he obviously made the connection. Harry all but sagged with relief. _Finally somebody knows._

"A new student, are you, Mister Granger?" Dumbledore's lips quirked as he said the word, as if he knew that 'Granger' was not Harry's true surname. Harry nodded wordlessly, as if there were more to be said but he was uncomfortable with speaking before the Marauders. True enough, Dumbledore took the hint, and wisely so.

"Misters Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew, would you please leave for a few moments? I wish to speak to Mister Granger in private."

James looked uneasily from Harry to Dumbledore, and then he obviously realised that Dumbledore was more than qualified to protect himself should Harry try anything..._funny,_ and nodded. "Certainly, sir. We will be outside." _In earshot, of course_.

Dumbledore nodded, and the Marauders trooped silently from the office. James was the last out, and he obviously was uncomfortable with this arrangement, which was evident on his face as he swung the door shut.

Dumbledore aimed his wand at the door. "_Muffliato,_" He murmured. Harry remembered the spell, and it must have shown on his face as Dumbledore chuckled softly under his breath.

"The spells I pick up from students nowadays are most interesting," He mused. "This one I picked up from a certain Severus Snape. But I'm assuming you knew that, Mister –" His eyes shifted from the door to settle on Harry's brilliant green ones, " – _Potter._"

Harry was not in the least surprised that Dumbledore had figured it out. "How did you...?" He trailed off suggestively.

"Make the connection? Merely the uncanny resemblance between you and Mister James Potter there, who is most definitely trying his best to eavesdrop and failing due to the charm I cast. I'm assuming that you're either a distant relative – or...from the future?" Dumbledore's tone was light, as if joking, but the hint was there. He really thought that Harry was from the future.

"I'm from the future," said Harry loudly. "Where I come from, it's the year 1998, not 1977. My parents are dead, Voldemort is dead –" Dumbledore's eyes came alight – " – and _you_ are dead. My apologies," Harry added immediately, realizing how blunt and outright he had been. It wasn't everyday somebody told you that you were dead.

"Quite alright, Mister Potter, quite alright." Dumbledore smiled. "So, Tom is dead? And how did that come about?" His voice was lilting.

Harry hesitated, then decided to be open about it. "I killed him. Here. At Hogwarts. In 1997."

"Curious...most fascinating." Dumbledore mused. "And you mentioned your parents?"

"James Potter," said Harry aloud, "and Lily Evans."

If possible, Dumbledore seemed even _more_ interested. "I would have liked to see how that came about," He said. "In case you haven't realised yet, Mister Potter, your _parents_ – or so you claim – tend to hate each other at the mere sight."

"It's one-sided," corrected Harry. "My father loves my mother, even now."

The twinkle in those blue eyes became more pronounced. "You do seem to know a lot about them. Alright then, Mister Potter. Let's say I believe you."

"You should," said Harry darkly.

"Let's say I believe you, but have you _any idea_ how you got here?"

Harry shook his head. "Not the faintest idea."

Dumbledore considered him very briefly, and then reached for a battered old hat that Harry recognised to be the Sorting hat. "Well, since there's a need to be Sorted –"

"A need to be Sorted?" Harry repeated.

"Why yes, Mister Potter, look down at your robes, you don't have a House." True to his word, when Harry looked down at his robes, his badge happened to be dyed a drab grey. Was the magic of the Pensieve-like-object really that strong? _Interesting..._

"But do I have to attend Hogwarts? I'm already eighteen."

Dumbledore regarded him. "That may be, Mister Potter, but from what I understand, you've failed to take your NEWTs and if you really intend on securing your dream job, they _are_ a necessity, I'm afraid."

"I want to be an Auror," said Harry suddenly. "Do you think I could be one?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, of course, Mister Potter." He lifted the Sorting hat and plucked a wreath of mistletoe off its brim. "Why, this is the mistletoe I've been looking for since last Christmas!"

"Be careful, Professor, it might have Nargles in it," said Harry automatically.

Dumbledore looked at Harry and smiled warmly. "Thank you, Mister Potter, I'll bear that in mind." Promptly Vanishing the mistletoe, he gestured for Harry to take his place on a stool, the one they used for the Sortings.

For the second time in his life, Harry Potter felt the Sorting Hat fit snugly around his ears.

_Oh dear,_ said the Sorting Hat. _Not another one._

**Thanks for the amazing response as always, and please review! :) faves and alerts are fantastic, of course, but it's the **_**reviews**_** that really make me wanna write more! :D**

**Thanks anyway.**

**Isabelle**


	4. The Others

_**SO MANY reviews, folks! **_**I am so epically proud of you and myself. :) right now, I am so encouraged! :D**

**As you know, promises have to be kept :) so here's the next chapter! It's actually a continuation of 'The Need to Be Sorted' but I renamed it instead of making it Part II :D**

**I don't own anything related to Harry Potter. Not even this fic. Shame, eh? :) I mean, of course I wrote it, blah blah blah, but I just...don't own it. Confusing.**

_Somewhere in Time_

_By xoxoisabelle_

_Chapter Four – The Others_

**Not another one?**thought Harry furiously. **What do you mean, another one? Another Potter, another Harry Potter? Another...**

_Time traveller, _whispered the voice in his head that was the Sorting Hat. _Another time traveller._

**But how is that possible? **Harry wondered. **How can others travel back in time?**

_I'm sure you know how, Mister Potter. There are several ways of traveling back in time. _The Sorting Hat spoke to him.

**A time turner, that's one, **Harry mused. **Hermione and I used it in Third Year.**

_That is correct._

**But what else? That device I used to get here today?**

_That is correct as well._

**Dammit, you're not helping in the least.**

_I am not meant to help, Mister Potter. I am simply here to Sort you._

**Sort? I don't need to be Sorted once more. I'm a Gryffindor.**

_You _were_ a Gryffindor,_ corrected the Hat gently. Harry was stunned into silence for a while.

**I..**_**.was**_** a Gryffindor? What do you mean? Aren't I brave enough to be re-Sorted into Gryffindor?**

_That is not true, Mister Potter. Your bravery may have grown, but it has evolved not into bravery, but recklessness. Tell me, Mister Potter. Has anything you've done recently _not_ been on a whim, and instead been...self-sacrificial, other than your submitting to Voldemort?_

**That was a long time ago,** thought Harry. **I do everything nowadays because I feel like it. And I **_**can.**_

_This is recklessness,_ chided the Hat. _You do things because you can. Because you _want _to. Bravery is about making the right decisions, and having the courage to face up to it. Neville Longbottom is a good example of bravery. You, on the other hand..._

**Alright then,** Harry admitted grudgingly. **If I'm reckless, not brave nowadays, where are you going to put me? Not Slytherin, surely. I can't speak to snakes anymore, and I've lost the part of me that was Voldemort. So?**

_You would do well in Ravenclaw._

**Ravenclaw? **Harry was horrified. **But how? I'm not even that smart!**

_Intelligence, Mister Potter, you surely possess. It is your recklessness that overrules your bravery, and makes your intelligence more prominent than your bravery._

**But- but – **

_And the others are in Ravenclaw as well._

**Others? **Harry perked up instantly. **The **_**other**_** Time Travellers?**

_That is correct._

**But – but I **_**belong**_** in Gryffindor. It's not possible for me to just...**_**leave**_** and join Ravenclaw. And you are obliged to take my choice into consideration. **

_And are you sure that your choice is to enter Gryffindor?_

Harry hated these questions, those that required him to make a decision. But, really, did choosing Gryffindor mean that he was unable to get in contact with the _other_ time travelers?

**Will it make a difference?**

_Hmm,_ the Hat said. Harry could almost hear the gears turning inside its limp, floppy head. _That, I'm afraid, Mister Potter, is for you to decide._

**Great.** Harry thought hard, for quite a long time. Should he go to Ravenclaw and meet the other time travelers? Or should he stay in Gryffindor, where he really and truly felt he belonged? Or if he _really_ was simply just – _reckless_ nowadays, was it a wise choice?

**I choose Ravenclaw.**

What? The moment Harry thought that, he couldn't believe what he had just chosen. Ravenclaw, over Gryffindor? The blue and grey over the red and gold? Then he realised that he now had a sense of belonging to Gryffindor that was too strong for him to simply give it up.

**No, actually, I choose Gryffindor.**

The Hat exhaled. _If that's what you wish._

So Gryffindor it was. Harry smiled as Dumbledore lifted the battered Hat off his head. The decision was over. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest. Now, as Harry looked down at his robes, the badge flickered back to its normal red and gold. He felt a sense of relief, somehow.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid I've kept you too long, Mister Potter. How about you meet me here on Monday evening, around eight?"

_Like our old lessons,_ thought Harry almost automatically. He nodded, and made to leave the office.

"Professor," He suddenly called, when he was at the door. Dumbledore looked up calmly "Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Do you know what happened?"

There was a very, very familiar twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes, I believe I do, Mister Potter."

Harry just nodded, and left the office. He would count on Dumbledore to explain later.

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-

Sirius looked at the badge on Harry's chest. "So you're moving into our dormitory?"

Harry definitely had not thought of that. They were standing in the corridor outside the gargoyle stairwell, and Harry looked from James to Peter to Remus and then finally back to Sirius. "I – I guess so."

Sirius nodded, almost stiffly. It was obvious that this was not his natural behaviour, but he was unsure of Harry's true identity and was not about to take kindly to him. They started walking in stony silence once more. Harry ached to tell all of them the truth, the four which he trusted so much, but he knew that he could not. They would never believe him. And in that situation, it would be even harder to gain their trust.

"Should we take him to Minnie?" asked Sirius, turning to James. James' eyes were on Harry, but the moment he saw Harry looking, he immediately turned to Sirius.

"Er, I guess so."

James was not stupid, and he was obviously having his own doubts as to who Harry was. Harry had the distinctive Potter look about him, but the eyes ruined everything. His eyes confused James. But everything about Harry was identical to James, down to the way their hair stuck up at the back. James ran his hands through his hair in confusion, making it stick up further. Those eyes looked very familiar...

He nudged Remus. "Don't you think that Granger's eyes are familiar?" He whispered in an undertone.

Remus' eyes flashed to Harry's green ones, but flickered away instantly. "Yes," Remus breathed back. "They look like – "

"Evans," they both realised at the same time.

"Huh?" Sirius and Peter gave them both confused looks. Harry, on the other hand, understood. They were still trying to find out who he was. They were discussing his eyes.

James and Remus shook their heads, indicating that Harry was present. Whilst doing so, James accidentally knocked into a seventeen year old ash blonde, sending the books flying from her grasp.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." He bent over hurriedly.

"It's alright," said a dreamy, familiar voice that Harry recognised. _She_ was the other one?

"Luna?"

**Very, very short, but thanks for reading anyway :) Care to review? **


	5. Settling Down

**A/N** – ****. . . hi. /le waves awkwardly~ does anyone still remember me? :P I'm sorry for not updating this story in such a long time, but life's been really turbulent as of late and I've just plummeted into secondary school, which is a whole new experience. On the bright side, my birthday's coming up, so do me a massive favor and review, okay? XD /and here I was, thinking that I'd decided to stop weighing things by reviews~ but having reviews is nice, right? :D /is shot /dies

Next thing –– thank you so so so so so so much to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or alerted this story because it means so much to me you can't even believe it. Yesterday I was looking through my story stats, and I had _absolutely no idea_ that I was on that many favorite lists, or that so many people had alerted me or my stories. It was such an amazing feeling, I – I don't know what quite to say.

And, might I add, I have 81 reviews for four chapters. If that isn't epic, I have no idea what is.

Also, despite the fact that I haven't been updating this story at all, the reviews, favorites, and alerts just kept coming :D I'm so epically touched right now, if only you could see me . . . so I decided to work on this chapter immediately. Sorry if it's not up to your standards ^^; my writing sucks as of late.

GO VOTE IN THE POLL ON MY PROFILE, MMKAY? :)

sorry for the mega-AN. ^^;

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><p><strong>Somewhere in Time<br>**by xoxoisabelle / the games have begun / weasleys

Chapter Five – Settling Down

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><p>"Lovegood, you know Granger?" James' eyes were fiercely darting from Harry to Luna and back again. The other three Marauders looked equally stunned, mimicking James' actions.<p>

_Please say that right thing, please . . . _Harry cast his eyes downwards and prayed that she would catch his drift and play along. "We . . . we . . . had exchanges prior to this."

"Granger?" Luna's brow furrowed, and Harry winced, already anticipating the words that she was going to blurt. _But his surname isn't Granger, it's Potter . . . _which, of course, would lead to disaster, also known as James, Sirius, Remus and Peter getting suspicious and hauling him to Dumbledore, where he would inevitably be exposed. The main reason he didn't want that to happen? Because then he would have to tell the Marauders their futures, in which they all were dead, and then they would set forth a chain of events to prevent that from happening . . . which might actually end up in the future not existing. Or worse, dominated by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

" . . . oh, you mean Harry! Sorry, James, I'm not used to hearing him be called by his last name," Luna announced cheerfully, and if it were possible, Harry would have slumped against the floor in relief and started kowtowing to her.

"Huh," Sirius said suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. "Really. And how exactly have you had 'exchanges prior to this'?"

_Ah, Sirius,_ thought Harry almost despairingly, _almost the skeptical one._ If he kept it up, Harry might as well give up all hope of hiding his identity successfully. _I just hope Luna is a good liar_. _Which,_ he told himself in dismay, _she probably isn't._

"We . . . were, um, childhood . . . friends." Luna faltered slightly, and looked to Harry for verdict. Harry screwed his eyes shut even tighter. _Oh, no. Oh, no._

"Childhood . . . friends?" questioned Peter, starting to snigger. Remus smiled and coughed slightly, almost as if embarrassed, as James and Sirius caught on his drift and cracked smiles, maybe even snickers. James fought down his laughter and pressed his lips into a thin smile. "Ah, I see." Luna, on the other hand, remained blissfully oblivious, and Harry stared down at his feet, even more uncomfortable now.

"Well, no matter," brushed off James quickly, "we'll take you to our dormitory."

Harry looked up and smiled, relieved. At least something had gone right today.

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><p>"I don't trust him, not at all," blurted Sirius, his eyes casting a furtive glance to where Luna and Harry were having dinner, somewhere down the table. James, Remus and Peter all followed his gaze to the two, who were seated awkwardly opposite each other, ever-so-often whispering something to one another.<p>

"Why not? He seems like a decent guy," offered Peter, stuffing more mash into his mouth.

"But he – he just appeared from nowhere!" stressed Sirius, waving his arms about and gesticulating wildly. "Seriously, who appears in the middle of the school year, just a few months before our NEWTs?"

"I don't know," Remus commented mildly. "Maybe he was failing at his other school."

"And Lovegood – she just appeared too, at the start of last year. Which, yeah, was perfectly reasonable, until she started faffing about Voldemort and whatever crap, right? Whoever that is," he added. "And they just happen to know each other? I'm not fooled."

"Come on, Sirius, admit it, you're just jealous."

"Jealous!" scoffed Sirius. "Of who? _Him_? Also, you can't deny the fact that he looks extraordinarily like James –"

"But with Evans' eyes," said James, sounding slightly dazed.

Remus and Peter sighed; Sirius said, "not again."

"But – but he could be from the future! It's perfectly plausible," protested James. "Serious, looking at it logically –"

"I'm not logical," said Sirius, "and anyway, what's the odds? That you and Evans had a baby and he came back in time to our glorious high school days? What?"

James deflated slowly. "Now that you put it like that," he admitted, "it sounds pretty ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "James, oh, James. If only you could listen to yourself."

* * *

><p>"There's your bed," said James rather gruffly, pointing at his old bed, vacant since he had been appointed Head Boy, and the Heads had their own private quarters. Harry followed his gaze and swallowed, thickly. It was in between Sirius' and Remus', and they were clearly still rather distant and had not warmed up to him just yet. "Um, thanks."<p>

"Where's your stuff?" asked Sirius dryly.

"Uh – I – um –" Harry hadn't yet thought about _that_, and now that Sirius mentioned it, it sounded like rather pressing matter. "It'll – turn up," he said vaguely, gesturing at the bed with one hand. "Somehow."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and turned to his own bed; Harry saw him roll his eyes. Remus cleared his throat, the ever-polite prefect, helping the new boy settle in. "We're going to take you to see Professor McGonagall, she's our Head of House. You can settle your, um, baggage issues later." He gestured towards the door, but James cut in.

"I'll take him." His hazel eyes were fierce and untrusting, and Harry felt uncomfortable even meeting his gaze. Peter hovered in the doorway, uncertain, and flattened himself quickly against a wall as James led Harry down the flight of steps and in to the common room, out the portrait hole and into the corridor.

They traced the familiar path up to McGonagall's office and quarters, and James didn't breathe a single word until they were outside the gargoyle.

"I don't know who you are," he began, eyes fixed on the statue in front of him, "I'm not sure if I want to, either. But you look extraordinarily like me, and your eyes – they're definitely Evans – um, the Head Girl's."

He whirled around now, staring Harry down. "Who _are_ you? Where did you come from, and _why_ are you here?"

Harry averted his gaze quickly. "I've told you. I'm Harry Granger, and I'm a transfer student –"

"Oh, cut it out, both you and I _know_ that's not true, so stop it." James snapped back. "Now, you either tell me the truth, or I'm going to –"

Just at that precise moment, the door flew open, the gargoyle hopped aside, and there stood Minerva McGonagall. "Mister Potter, I will have to ask you to kindly explain why you are standing outside my office, making _such _a racket at this time of the –" then her eyes landed on Harry, and almost comically, they widened. "You again," she breathed, and that surprised no one more than Harry.

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><p>sorry bout the length, but care to review? :3<p> 


	6. You Potter Boys

**A/N** — (le awks again) … aloha everyone! so, it's been … a year? /scratches head — holy shit I am terribly terribly sorry about that I didn't even realize haha ^^; to make up for my stupidity and lousy updating skills I'm now going to promise you — one update every two-three weeks. No more annual updates! hahahahahaha that's actually kind of funny, annual updates. I have absolutely no idea how many chapters I have planned for this but you can be assured that it's going to be _quite_ a long thing because for now I'm just going to let the plot run by itself and leave future!me to do cleaning up. (:

and oh god 103 reviews?! seriously?! I can't even believe how amazing you guys are lots and lots of love from me kisses everywhere argh why you guys so wonderful I can't

a longer chapter to make up for everything :P enjoy!

… then again, does anyone even read this story anymore?

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><p><strong>Somewhere In Time<br>**by xoxoisabelle / kaworu nagisa**  
><strong>

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><p>Chapter Six – You Potter Boys<p>

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><p>"Again?" Once more, James beat him to it, repeating the word before Harry could even open his mouth. "Professor, you know Gr — Harry?"<p>

"Harry?" McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Harry? Your name is Harry?"

_What?_ That was Harry's first reaction. _But McGonagall — she — how could she know me, yet not know my name_? "Uh, yes, Professor. My name is Harry Granger. I'm … the new transfer student." Inside, he was reeling. None of this made sense. Not yet.

"Ah." McGonagall seemed to compose herself some, drawing herself to her full height, yet the startled, frantic look remained in her eyes. Her gaze landed on James, then returned to Harry. "Professor Dumbledore has told me about you, Mister … Granger. I am Professor McGonagall. I will be your Head of House, as well as your Transfiguration teacher. No doubt you are disoriented by your surroundings, and therefore Mister Potter will be your … guide, until you settle in."

"What?" Both Harry and James exclaimed at the same time, neither able to hold it in.

"But, Professor —" Harry began.

"That's impossible!" James shook his head.

McGonagall's gaze grew fierce. "Are you questioning my authority, both of you?"

"Nope," both echoed simultaneously. McGonagall seemed satisfied. "Good." Her eyes lingered on Harry a tad longer than they should have, but she seemed to shake it off as she turned on her heel. "Very well then. The hour is late; both of you should be heading to bed." She paused, just before entering her office. "I'll see you …" there was a heavy tone to her voice. " … in the morning."

Then she was gone, leaving a very confused Harry and a very unhappy James alone with each other in the hallway.

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-

Lily Evans was waiting for James Potter.

It was a strange thing when worded, she mused, but it was the truth nonetheless — there she was, up on a school night, waiting for _James Potter_ in their shared common room, sitting in an armchair by the fire.

There was a reason to her staying up, of course. First was the boy that James Potter had inexplicably brought up to the castle earlier that day. The boy that looked exactly like James Potter, except with a different pair of eyes.

_Her_ eyes.

She shook her head; she was being unrealistic. _They're just eyes, many people have green eyes_, she thought. But the exact same shape, the exact same colour? That was slightly more difficult to explain. _Nonetheless, they're just eyes,_ she berated herself; therefore she should stop thinking about them and move on. It should have been that simple.

But they haunted her. And she had no one better to ask.

The second reason was because that night was the day of their shared patrol. This was an occurrence that didn't often happen; more than often they were paired up with prefects and the odd teacher. They had shared patrol maybe … once a month? Once in two months? Not to say that she particularly enjoyed these experiences … not at all.

But yet … they were probably the most peace she ever got on her evenings. James Potter was a good listener, and she found it easy to talk to him. Some nights she thought they might even be _friends_, but his behaviour during the day and his choice of friends often got in the way of that.

The door to their common room swung open, and there stood James Potter, obviously deep in thought, with his eyes on the floor and his poise weary.

"Potter!" she stood up, and planted her hands on her hips. "You're late. You were supposed to be here —" but then he looked up, and she saw the conflict in his hazel eyes, immediately sensing something was troubling him. Lily's gaze softened. "James. What's the matter?"

"I've just been assigned to be the new student's … guide, buddy, whatever you call it," he said. She straightened.

"Well, that's nothing to be brooding about."

His gaze darkened. "I don't trust him."

"Hard to trust someone you know nothing about."

"No, that's not it." James shook his head wearily. "He appeared in the middle of the day, thrashing about with the giant squid, during _lesson time_, and nobody had seem him at _all_ prior to that."

"So?"

"So?" he sounded incredulous. "Someone appears, in full Hogwarts uniform, wand and all, in the middle of the day, in the _lake_, and that's not a reason for suspicion?"

Lily shrugged. "Well, it's Hogwarts, isn't it? Strange things happen around here. But of course it's a reason for suspicion, and that's exactly what I wanted to ask you about. You just found him … in the lake?"

"Yes."

"When you were skiving off History of Magic."

James shot her a pained look. "Yes, Evans."

"I, personally, don't know whether you should be more worried about him just materialising in the lake, or the fact that he looks exactly like you." Lily took a step towards him; he eyed her warily.

"What?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's our shared patrol night, you idiot. And we're half an hour late, so we should get a move on."

He sighed too. "But of course. A new transfer student appears, and Lily Evans thinks about her Head Girl duties." He could tell she wasn't about to change her stance. "Lead the way."

Satisfied, she moved past him to the portrait hole, and with another sigh, he followed too.

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James walked him to the Fat Lady. "Password's _illuminati_," he said grudgingly. "You know where the boy's dorm is." And just like that, he was gone. _My father is an extremely friendly person_, thought Harry, full of vitriol, before he shuddered. _That was my father. My father is a seventeen-year-old, and I'm eighteen._ Even though he'd considered it before, the thought was still as terrifying as it had been.

"_Illuminati_," he said to the Fat Lady, who swung outwards, revealing the common room, which was, thankfully, mostly empty. However, that didn't stop the occupants of the room from swivelling around simultaneously to pin him with their questioning stares, right up till he disappeared up the staircase leading up to his dormitory.

The dormitory wasn't any friendlier. The three Marauders all looked up, and while Remus said, "Hey, Harry," pleasantly enough, Sirius just turned around with a contemptuous snort and Peter stared at him until he felt uncomfortable.

He moved over to his father's bed, upon which Sirius called out, "and your stuff hasn't turned up yet."

"I noticed," Harry answered, and seated himself on the edge of the bed, feeling as though he were trespassing into his father's territory.

One of the other boys in the room stood up and offered a hand to Harry, smiling. "Hey. I'm Frank Longbottom. Nice to meet you, Harry Granger." _Frank Longbottom. Neville's dad._ He couldn't help but smile back and shake the proffered hand.

"Hey, Frank."

"This is Gideon Prewett," Frank gestured at a dark-haired boy lounging on a bed at the other end; the other boy acknowledged him good-naturedly. "It's real nice to meet you."

"And you," Harry replied. He felt more at ease now, despite still being under the frightened, questioning, suspicious eyes of Peter, Remus and Sirius respectively. Frank looked at Gideon once more, who shrugged, and then returned his gaze to Harry. "You can have the first shower slot today, since you're new."

"The preferential treatment only extends to newbies," shouted Gideon, and threw a pillow across the room at Sirius, who made a dive for the only bathroom in the dormitory.

"And he _scores_!" Frank narrated with a roll of his eyes as Sirius went down, clutching his face and moaning, "I won't be pretty anymore!"

"Are you for real?" Gideon snorted.

"Yes, he's serious," Harry said, half-jokingly. He hadn't expected anyone to hear him, much less respond. Yet Frank and Gideon and Remus all burst into roars of laughter, while Peter cast a nervous glance at Sirius and let out a high-pitched chuckle. Sirius stopped rolling around abruptly, stood, and walked over to Harry's four-poster, staring down at him menacingly.

"Look," he began, and Harry's smile faded, "I don't know who you are, much less where you're from or what you're here fore, and I'm certainly not about to start trusting you, but for some reason, you remind me of the old James."

"Maybe it's the face," Remus called.

"Or the cheekbones," Gideon said, patting his cheeks effeminately and eliciting more laughter from the other boys.

"No," Sirius said, staring down at Harry. "It's something else." And for the first time in what seemed like forever, he smiled, a half-smile that gave Harry hope.

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"The first step to surviving Hogwarts," Sirius told him, as they headed down the hallway to their first lesson, "is to be skilful." He clapped Harry on the shoulder cheerfully and winked at a couple of passing girls; they giggled and hurried off.

"In what aspects?"

"_All_ aspects," Sirius stressed. "Whether it comes to the ladies, the teachers, or even — oh, hang on a moment," he added as James hauled him quickly to aside.

"What are you doing, Sirius?"

"I'm just chilling, Prongs. Taking life easy. Surely you know what _that_ means?" Sirius tucked his arms behind his head while Peter hovered nervously in the background and Remus swiftly engaged Harry in conversation. The other boy cast James a glance, which James acknowledged with an equally friendly stare, before turning back to his best friend.

"Why are you suddenly all pally with the new student?"

"Aw," Sirius pouted, "is Jamsie jealous of Granger? Does widdle Jamsie want me to stay with him at _all times_?"

"Quit it," snapped James, raising his voice slightly. "I just want to know, why you two are suddenly friends, and why —"

In the background, Remus said, extremely loudly, "SO HOW DO YOU FIND HOGWARTS SO FAR, HARRY?"

"Jamsie," Sirius lowered his voice conspiratorially, "you were the one who said we shouldn't be too harsh on him! After all, he's new, and he doesn't have many friends —"

"When on _earth _did I say that?"

"DID YOU LIKE THE EGGS WE HAD FOR BREAKFAST, HARRY?" Remus all but shouted from their left. Harry looked slightly confused, but answered anyway.

Sirius shrugged, incensing James further. "Look, I talked with Evans last night, and all I'm saying is that _we shouldn't trust him yet_ —"

"DO YOU LIKE EGGS, HARRY? BECAUSE I LOVE EGGS!" Remus roared in the background. James finally had the good sense to shut up as Harry answered, " … yes, Prof — Remus, I do like eggs. Do you think you could be a little more quiet?"

Later, when a stern Professor McGonagall was telling off Remus for causing a public disturbance, Sirius winked at Harry. "This is what I mean, Granger. You have to be _skilful_, eh?"

Standing slightly behind them, James narrowed his eyes.

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It got worse when he was placed next to Granger for Transfiguration. And even worse when it turned out Granger was good at Potions, and Slughorn _and_ Lily took an interest in him. By lunch time, when Sirius invited Granger to sit with them, James had had enough.

He moved down the table until he was standing in front of Lily and _her _usual lunch crowd, and asked, extremely loudly, "Lily, may I have your permission to sit with you for lunch?"

"You may," Lily said, standing up as well amidst the giggles, and followed him to the deserted end of the Gryffindor table, where she seated herself opposite him and stared at him, sensing something was wrong. "What's the matter now?"

James stared at his food. "Granger's sitting with my friends."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"No!" he burst out, and then hesitated. "Well … no. Definitely not a good thing." Lily raised her eyebrows.

"It's just this feeling I'm getting — they're using him as … a replacement for me," James admitted finally. He forked up a chunk of goodness-knows-what from his plate and shoved it in his mouth, only to spit it back out with a mental note to _know what he was eating before doing so_ in future.

Lily seemed to be suppressing laughter, so James went on hurriedly to explain this sentiment. "Because you see, he looks like me, and I haven't been spending time with the Marauders lately … plus Sirius seems to be treating him the way he used to treat me. Remus is nice to everyone, but I don't know about Peter … for some while now, I've been feeling like we're becoming distant. Sirius even _said _that I was becoming boring."

The warning bell tolled throughout the Great Hall, reminding everyone that the next lesson was about to begin. Lily looked up, briefly, before returning her gaze to James. "Look, James. I'm pretty sure — heck, I'm _completely_ sure that your friends would never and could never replace you. There's no need to be so self-conscious! Is this what's been bothering you?"

Half-ashamed now, James nodded. This time around, Lily couldn't suppress her laughter, throwing her head back and laughing until her cheeks hurt. When she looked back to him, face flushed rosily and her green eyes sparkling, she said, "Oh, you Potter boys, you shouldn't be jealous of one another," and rolled her eyes before gathering her lunch and standing. "Look, I've got to go now, I'll see you later, okay?"

He nodded, and only when she'd gone did James finally realise what she'd said.

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Harry didn't get to see Luna again until dinner. As they settled at the Ravenclaw table she chattered happily about her day of lessons, and how she'd spent the entire of Herbology pruning this bush that squirted this in her face, etcetera, until Harry had the good sense to stop her and ask her the question that'd been bothering him all along.

"Luna … how did you end up in 1977?"

She fell silent, her words trailing off into the empty air. "It was this parcel," she said, quietly. "It arrived at the beginning of this year — right after the war ended. Daddy thought it might be the Construct-Your-Own-Crumple-Horned-Snorkack set I'd been waiting for … but no, it was just this bowl thing. It came with a note: Daddy said it was my mother's handwriting. Which made me think, maybe this was some present my mother had arranged for me to be sent on that day!"

Here she seemed to fall into contemplation, pursing her lips and frowning. "But then again … it wasn't on my birthday. It was a few days before. And there was only an accompanying vial with it, labelled 1976."

_An irregularity,_ Harry thought. _I got 1977. She got 1976. But why? _What's_ the significance_?

"And then … here I was. I didn't know what to do, so I just came into the castle and went to see Professor Dumbledore. He was very understanding. Not that I mind being here, I never did finish my sixth and seventh years of schooling. I'm taking my NEWTs this year, are you?"

"Luna …" Harry trailed off; her smile dimmed.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you … I mean, aren't you worried?" Harry scratched his head. "I mean, we're in 1977. We have no way of getting back. I'm only going to be born in three years —" he winced; there was another strange thought. " — and you're only going to be born in four. And then what, we watch ourselves grow up? And … what about Voldemort?"

"Well," she said, "I believe that there's no point in wondering about something that we can't change. I don't know who sent me that parcel, but I don't think that worrying about it is going to change anything." _She sounds older than I am,_ Harry mused. Luna shrugged. "Besides, at first I was alone. Now you're here. Everything's getting better." Then she smiled at him, and for some reason, he couldn't help but smile back.

_Soon. Luna's here with me — we can find our way home. Definitely._

* * *

><p><strong>AN — **THERE ARE NO INTENTIONAL HARRY/LUNA UNDERTONES IN THIS :P as you can tell my writing has really morphed and changed since I first started this story so hope it doesn't annoy you so much that you stop reading! again I'm really sorry for the late update and I know I haven't cleared up the McGonagall thing (maybe I won't ever ;) but it will happen lel.

Do review! (:


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